Drabble a Day
by SamN5
Summary: After Hong Kong, they are on the run. So is Cade Yeager. - A series of short drabbles. Just trying to brush up on my writing.
1. Numbers

**A/N: So... just saw the first Transformers 5 trailer and I literally became obsessed. (Please let this movie be good!) The hype is real, people! I haven't written fanfics for a while, but after this teaser... I just had to.**

 **Short drabbles. Nothing serious, just trying to brush up on my writing.**

 **If the translation seems off, let me know! :)**

* * *

 _ **Numbers**_

* * *

There were bad days, though Cade Yeager never once complained. And why would he have done that? Her precious daughter was safe and in college. He didn't have to worry about bills, taxes or Irish Leprechauns with race cars and dangerous tricks. He could experiment on so many things others labeled as junk all day. So yeah, it was like heaven.

There were worse days, but Cade Yeager still never complained. And why would he have done that? Yes, he was constantly on the run, constantly on the radar of the government, but he had been hiding alien vehicles ever since the battle in Hong Kong for Christ's sake! So yeah, sometimes it was a narrow escape.

There were the worst days, and Cade Yeager still tried not to complain. But it was hard as fuck. Hiding, holding his breath after narrowly escaping this so-called TRF… He hated these days, because he could do absolutely nothing at all. No experiments. No inventions. No running. Just waiting. The hours stretched long, and he could do nothing at all. That's when he picked up this stupid game.

"What the hell is that?" Crosshairs was the first to ask of course. He sounded annoyed, but Cade ignored it.

"It's a game."

"With boxes and numbers? Stupid." The green Autobot snorted.

"It's called _Sudoku_."

"The name's stupid too."

"Probably. But when there's nothing to do, and I mean nothing _at all_ , you play Sudoku. It kills time. I can tell you the rules if— "

"Don't bother."

There were worse days than the worst days, and Cade Yeager couldn't stop complaining. Getting beaten by a smartass Autobot in Sudoku? Like hell he was willing to accept that.

* * *

 **A/N: Getting beaten in Sudoku? Well... maybe they compete who fills in the boxes faster or something like that.**


	2. Stargazing

**A/N: Hey, guys! I wrote this drabble weeks ago, but sorta... well... forgot to upload it. School is a huge mess right now, and I'm getting very sick of everything.**

 **The title says drabble a day, but I won't be able to update every single day.**

 **Hope you'll like this one. If the translation seems off, let me know. :)**

* * *

 _ **Stargazing**_

* * *

Cade wakes from a nightmare. He kicks off his blankets, trying to drink as much air as he can. In and out. In and out. He gives a sudden shudder as sweat rolls down his back, gluing his T-shirt to his skin.

The dream was a mess. Just pictures and talking. And pleading. And screaming. His daughter in danger. He couldn't save her. And then suddenly Lockdown appeared. Bee was there too. With a smoking hole where his spark was supposed to be. And then came Optimus. Battled Lockdown, but vanished before he could get his daughter.

Maybe it's the improvised bed. Freakin' uncomfortable.

He gets up to pour something down his dry throat, but finds nothing but stale water. Well... better than nothing.

He sits down and watches his Autobot comrades sleep. Only Drift is awake outside; he is the night owl this time, keeping vigil over the quiet night. Hound came up with the name. When he found out about this expression, he almost drowned in his own laughter, and of course the others kept teasing him about it. So it kinda stuck.

Cade raises the glass to his mouth, but stops before he can take a sip. Bumblebee's missing. Startled, he rushes outside to contact the sword wielder, the drink and his dream forgotten. Once he is under the blanket of the starry night, all of his concerns are swallowed by the darkness.

The scout is sitting on a rock, gazing at the cloudless sky.

"You're not alone, idiot." Drift walks up to him, with his arms crossed. "We're family now. Yeah, it's pretty messy, but you have to bear with us."

Bee glances at him.

"He's Optimus Prime. He will come back." Drift sounds confident, but the yellow 'bot is not convinced. "Argh, come on, do not feel sorry for yourself, smartass." He playfully flicks the scout's helm. Bee let's out an annoyed noise, but his bright blue optics show a smile.

Cade silently returns back to sleep. The rest of the night is dreamless.


	3. Question

**A/N: I really enjoy writing these short drabbles. :)**

 **I hope nobody's OOC. I just read the Drift comic and this needed to come outta me. Hope you'll like it.**

 **If the translation seems off, let me know. :)**

* * *

 _ **Question**_

* * *

"Who's Deadlock?"

It's a simple question, but has enough force to stop the surprisingly cheerful conversation. The Autobots are frozen in place; only barely noticeable sideway glances are given. The stray glances directed at Drift feel different, and Cade Yeager knows immediately that he screwed up.

He tries to apologize, but the question already left his big mouth and nothing will make it unheard. So he takes a deep breath instead and stays quiet.

Minutes pass and still nobody utters a word. The tension becomes almost palpable. Someone inhales. Bee moves his pede, kicking the grass; Crosshairs chews on his metallic lip; Hound forgets about his still lit cigarette; and Drift… he just stares.

Hound is the one who breaks the ice.

"Listen, Cade—"

"Sorry, I just heard some of you mention the name befo—"

"That is enough. I can—"

"You shouldn't—"

"I'm no longer in hiding. I'm ready to take the con—"

"Argh, will you just shut the hell up?" Crosshairs snorts irritably, then turns to Cade. "Deadlock's a Decepticon who's no more. That's it. The end. Story over."

Drift steps forward, his movements cumbersome.

"He's still there… buried under—"

His words die in his throat as Hound grabs him from behind with enough strength to have him lose his footing. Drift's reflexes kick in; a quick blink and he's already clutching the hilt of his sword.

The bigger Autobot does not waver.

"Listen carefully, 'cuz I'm saying this once: it doesn't matter where you come from but where you're going. Remember that, asshole, 'cuz I ain't takin' that shit anymore. My grenades are pretty tasty. You just have to ask."

With that, Hound leaves the others in stunned silence.


	4. Kill

**A/N: Hey there! I wrote this one pretty fast, so if the translation seems off, let me know. :)**

 **Btw, I think Bee's always been the closest to humans. I can't remember him harming them. Well, I hope you'll enjoy this drabble! Mostly dialogues, but it's a bit longer than the previous ones.**

* * *

 _ **Kill**_

* * *

" _Dammit!"_

" _Bee, can ya' hear me?"_

Distant voices. Incomprehensible. Something is being said to him, but he's unable to make out words; neither English nor Cybertronian. There's a constant ringing inside his processor… and a powerful red light that causes pain. Error messages keep popping up, but there's absolutely no need of them; he can _feel_ every glitch.

" _That doesn't look too good…"_

" _If I get my hands on them…"_

" _Cut it! It's not helping."_

Slowly and laboriously he manages to online his optics. Bright light and darkish shapes appear before him, and no matter how desperately he blinks, the view doesn't sharpen. The shapes wear different colors and the tear-jerker light is moving.

" _Energy level is low, but not critical…"_

He tries to move, but everything feels numb. The pain inside his processor weighs down on his frame, causing unbearable pressure on his chassis. He tries to focus on the light instead, but the commands sent remain unexecuted.

" _Optics' focus slow…"_

" _Is he gonna be okay?"_

" _Yeah, he just needs to pull himself together a little."_

" _Those bastards… I will gut them…!"_

" _Calm down!"_

Gut who? He tries to remember, he really does, but the error messages forming a barricade prevent him from reaching his memories. What happened? Why is he like this? Where _is_ he?

" _Spark chamber intact…"_

Suddenly everything comes crashing down on him. A signal. There was a signal. He drove off to investigate. Trap. He was lured into a trap. Set by humans. Ambush. Vehicles. Drones. Guns. Grenades. Explosions. He was forced to fight back. Don't harm the humans. You're supposed to protect them.

A human. Blood. Lot's of it. He killed a human. He killed a human!

" _Whoa, hey! Don't stress yourself, Bee!"_

He killed a human. Blasted his arm clean off. His cannons are too powerful against them. He wasn't supposed to use it on them. He killed a human. _Primus_ , he killed a human!

" _Dammit! Bee, calm the heck down!"_

" _Body heat dangerously high…"_

" _Knock him out!"_

" _Are you outta your damn processor?"_

" _Just do it! Overheating can lead to—"_

" _I know, I know!"_

" _We can't risk melted circuits. Do it."_

" _Argh. Sorry, Bee, for your sake."_

The noises suddenly fade away.


	5. Coward

**A/N: It's been a while, but hey, at least I'm still here. This drabble turned out to be better than I thought it would. God, I love Crosshairs!**

 **Sometimes these short ficlets will be continuous. There's a little reference to the previous drabble in this one.**

 **Hope you'll like it. If the translation seems off, let me know. :)**

* * *

 _ **Coward**_

* * *

"Like hell I'm gonna set foot in that building, that damn place is full of booby-traps! There's no way I'm willing to risk my life because of those wretched humans! No way, no way!"

Crosshairs is pacing up and down in their pokey hideout fuming and cycling his vents more than usual. The cables under his armor are tight, and he is pretty damn sure they're going to snap if the walls keep coming closer and closer.

"Don't be ridiculous! We need to map that place!" There is a hard edge in Drift's voice that the green Autobot doesn't like.

"We've got a scout for that!"

"Are ya' really such an asshole?" Suddenly pain erupts inside his head when he feels the heated barrel of Hound's gun pressed against his faceplates. "Bee's still recovering."

"He's willing to go!" The barrel lets out a low hum, and Crosshairs knows very well that Hound will not hesitate to vaporize his ass. Tch… The trigger-happy bastard…

"Listen, I'm a paratrooper, not a scout!" The statement makes Hound even more angered.

"No. You're a coward."

Once the gun disappears, the green Autobot starts rubbing his sore faceplates.

"Where are ya' going?" he asks Hound's retreating back.

"To fetch Bee."

Crosshairs lets out a deep sigh. It should make him feel better, he should feel lighter now that the pressure is gone, but no. It's like an invisible hand is grabbing his chestplates… hard. The walls are closing in, and he hears his joints crack. Drift's cold optics don't help either. The walls… and now the ceiling too… He can't breathe. Why can't he breathe?

"Wait." The word sounds weak but determined. Hound stops in his tracks. "If something rips my arm off, I'll beat the crap outta ya' with it."


	6. Hunger

**A/N: Hey there! Thanks for the follow, I really appreciate it!  
So, I just saw the new Bayformers trailer. I don't know about you, guys, but I'm not really convinced. Don't get me wrong: I'm happy that a strong female character is included, but I want to see badass robots kick ass and... not kids running around. I guess we will have to wait and see...**

 **Okay, so the next drabble has Hound in focus. Hope you'll like it. If the translation seems off, let me know! :)**

* * *

 _ **Hunger**_

* * *

It is a peaceful evening; the last rays of the orange lightbulb of the sky are slowly dying out, painting the puffy clouds. The air still feels pleasantly warm, and the quiet whispers of the trees make one living metal colossus feel relaxed. Hound is sitting comfortably on top of a rock, cleaning the inside of his gun's barrel. The day's scouting mission went uneventful, so he finally made up his mind to do so. He's been postponing it for days now anyway.

Once the last ray of the sun is swallowed by the stony horizon, he suddenly feels it. A pair of eyes watching him ferociously. Strengthening his grip on the gun, he slowly turns around. He can't see it, but he definitely can feel it. The thought of alerting the others crosses his mind, but he dismisses it, labeling himself as paranoid.

But it's not nothing. He can feel it, so why can't he see… Then he sees it. Luminous eyes that belong to a strange hungry creature. Its stare is curious but has a dangerous glint in it that makes Hound uncomfortable instantly. He just watches the thing completely still, and the thing just watches him, saliva slowly dripping down it's dirty and ruffled fur.

Minutes pass and still no movement. That vicious pair of eyes turns Hound's metal ice cold. Hunger, craftiness, deception, bloodlust, hunger… Almost like an Earth version of a Decepticon. When the thing's nose wrinkles, the Autobot's finger quivers on the trigger.

A shot fires and a yelp can be heard. Hound's gun exhales smoke puffs and a loud howl echoes in the evening.

"Bitch."

* * *

 **A/N: Yep, that thing is a coyote. A friend of mine sent me a crazy ass video and... yeah. Coyotes are creepy as hell.**


	7. Caution

**A/N: Yeah, yeah, it's been a while, but you know... school. Anyways, I'm here now with a little bit of wisdom from our favorite swordsman. :) Hope you'll like it.**

 **If the translation feels off, let me know. :)**

* * *

 _ **Caution**_

* * *

The warehouse is completely empty save for a few plundered boxes which once contained Primus knows what, and of course a thick layer of dust, trying to ruin his systems. So, it's no surprise that Crosshairs is angry and is moping around. His sensors detect nothing but the damned dust, and it makes him suspicious.

Where the hell is the beacon Hound picked up approximately two hours ago? Is it a trap? Are those human drones around? No, they can't be, he would've noticed them if they were close by. The warehouse and its surroundings are quiet, too quiet for the paratrooper's liking.

Although he wanted something to finally happen, when he hears those muffled noises coming through the entrance, he swallows back an English curse word. Grabbing his gun, he (as soundlessly as possible) takes a few cautious steps toward the light. Once the shadow of the stranger is cast on the opposite wall, finger twitching on the trigger, he jumps forward.

He almost causes himself circuit damage, and he is sure a few cables just snapped under his armor.

"Dammit, Drift! Idiot! I coulda blown your head off!" It feeds the bubbling anger inside the paratrooper that his comrade's expression is emotionless. "Why the hell did you cloak your signal?"

"Calm down, Crosshairs. It's better to be welcomed by a bullet than your back. You could have backed down, but if I was the enemy, you could be dead right now. Besides, what makes you think that I would be helpless against your guns?"

Crosshairs smiled.

"Cocky bastard."


End file.
